*THE TRAGEDY OF THE MUSLIM NORTH*
by A B Abubakar
You buried tens of thousands of your own. You lost your homes through forced displacement to neighbouring settlements and countries such as Chad, Cameroon, Niger, and Benin Republic. You lost your capacity to earn a living through your normal occupation—farming.
You now depend on handouts in IDP camps. Though coming from different religious persuations they are now united by shared agony; varying only in degree and space. On account of the crises in parts of Borno, Plateau, Zamfara, Sokoto, Kebbi, Niger, Kaduna, Yobe,
Katsina, Adamawa, Benue, and Taraba, an estimated five million people have either been psychologically traumatised, and/or displaced from their homes.
Then, out of the blues came the accusation that the larger victim (the Muslims) had been complicit in committing genocide against their Christian brothers—a double jeopardy. The logic seemed simple: since the violent elements emerged from the Muslim side, they
must have harboured them. After all, some of them probably look alike, pray alike, and may share a common worldview. Despite being terrorists or insurgents, they belong to the same community and share the same identity. It is like the angry mob shouting, “Kill
him for his name!”—as in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, where Cinna the Poet was attacked simply for sharing a name with Cinna the conspirator. Today, the Muslim North has been reduced to a punching bag—between its Christian compatriots on one side and the global
superpower, the United States, on the other. Naturally, not all Christians or Muslims are part of this brewing conspiracy theory.
How did the Muslim North find itself in the dock? The answer lies in the adage: “The way you make your bed is the way you lie on it.” Every action or inaction has consequences. The Muslim North has cultivated a frightening level of docility and fatalism that
has stripped its members of the will to assert their inalienable, God-given rights. They are always too quick to attribute their predicaments to divine destiny. Rarely do they hold themselves or their leaders accountable. They allow others to define and cast
them in whatever image they wish. Occasionally, they flare up in anger and frustration, often with devastating consequences, only to relapse into silence thereafter. Sadly, this disposition runs deep—even among the region’s intellectuals and power brokers.
The North looked away when Nnamdi Kanu and his associates repeatedly petitioned the UN and US governments over alleged ethnic cleansing against their people. Between 2015 and 2025, Kanu formally complained more than half a dozen times to international bodies,
seeking support for his Biafra project. Similarly, the promoters of the Odùduwà Nation, led by Sunday Igboho, took their campaign to the streets of London and other European capitals, even submitting a letter to the British Prime Minister at Number 10 Downing
Street in March and October 2024. It took the emergence of the Tinubu government—given his regional roots—to slow the agitation. The tempo may rise again after 2027 or 2031. Throughout all these, the Muslim North remained a passive onlooker by choice.
The same attitude characterised the rise and entrenchment of Boko Haram, ISWAP, killer herders, and armed kidnappers. For over a decade and a half, the region has failed to share its pains effectively with the wider world, including fellow Muslim-majority nations—a
failure that has transformed it from joint victim of terror to perceived villain. Despite suffering a disproportionate consequences from the various crisis, the region's plight hardly elicited enough sympathy or empathy. That's why it was easy for the vocal
segment of the North in concert with other parts of the country to rope the Muslim enclaves into the genocide complicity.
The Sardauna foresaw this when he reportedly said: “The society should blow its own trumpet, because others are not only doing so but are blowing two—one from each side of the mouth.” He also advised that people should write their own biographies to represent
themselves accurately, rather than allowing others to write their stories with possible misrepresentation. These dictums seem to have been forgotten by the Muslim North. Discussions across the region remain muffled or limited to the mundane: sarauta (royalty),
malaman addini (clerics), siyasar ubangida (godfather politics), and ƙabilanci (tribalism).
The social media space in the North has become a playground for lamentations or for trading insults—whether over the two emirs in Kano (Sanusi and Aminu), or the rivalry among Kwankwaso, Ganduje, and Shekarau. The same goes for the camps of El-Rufai and Uba
Sani in Kaduna; Bafarawa and Wamakko in Sokoto; Goje, Dankwambo, and Yahaya in Gombe; Yerima and Shinkafi in Zamfara; Yuguda and Muazu in Bauchi; Abdullahi and Al-Makura in Nasarawa; or Aleiro and political godsons Nasamu and Bagudu, to mention a few. The
ugly development is rearing its head among sections of the Fulani and Hausa communities that have hitherto been living as one harmonious family.
Meanwhile, some state governments, oblivious to the deprivation around them, indulge in the luxury of creating new emirates and chiefdoms—at a time when every kobo should be channelled into education, healthcare, and infrastructure. Over 188 schools have been
shut down across crisis zones in the North. The region accounts for over 75% of Nigeria’s 139 million people living in poverty (World Bank, 2025), with a growing army of beggars, destitutes, and out-of-school children. Yet governments in states like Yobe,
Adamawa, Bauchi, and Nasarawa spend billions on the traditional institutions and such ventures as flyovers and new Government Houses, while the populace watches in silence and in poverty. Paradoxically, some even applauding them, for seemingly not caring enough
about their welfare.
Another tragedy lies in the misuse of religion to justify inaction. The Muslim North is now divided along sectarian lines—with about half a dozen sects competing for the loyalty of the young, impressionable, and vulnerable. The major ones include the Sufi,
known generally as Ɗariƙa, Salafi, Shi'a, Qur'aniyun etc. The "verbal war" among followers of some of the prominent scholars such as Sheiks Yahaya Masusska, late Idris Dutsin Tanshi, Bello Yabo, Musa Assadu, Abduljabbar Kabara, Lawan Triumph etc have on many
occasions threatened to boil over. On occasions they degenerate to mutual charges of blasphemy.
The same uneasy calm or factional cold war characterised the relationship between the Izala-Jos and that Izala-Kaduna under Bala Lau and Sambo Rigachukun, respectively. Many of the followers have literally become full-time “cyber-soldiers” or keyboard activists
for their sects, even as their livelihoods collapse. Outside of e-commerce and limited financial services, the internet in the North has been reduced largely to entertainment and petty politics. Nobody seems to care. Nobody feels responsible. In such a highly
fouled environment, no meaningful peace and development can certainly take place.
Ironically, while people avoid responsibility, they still nurse a deep sense of entitlement—to safety, protection, and better living conditions—even as they themselves destroy the frameworks that ensure those things. Public property—highways, telecom installations,
power lines, fibre-optic cables, schools, hospitals, and offices—is vandalised daily. From the “jinxed” Zaria Water Project to the theft of manhole covers in Abuja, or the destruction of 132/330KV power lines, the story is the same. Often, the culprits are
known. Yet nobody complains—because it is “public property.”
The same attitude extends beyond national borders. The Muslim North holds little sway in the Middle East—whether in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, or the UAE. Anyone familiar with Northern pilgrims, before the current economic downturn that shrunk their number, knows
their accommodations and camps in the Holy Land have long been the most disorganised; their immigration and customs processes, the most chaotic; and their return flights, the most unpredictable—a far cry from pilgrims from Indonesia, Malaysia, Turkey, Egypt,
or Pakistan.
In the Western world—Europe and the Americas—Northern Nigerian Muslims are almost invisible, and consequently voiceless. It is a tragedy in a globalised age where value is measured by self-improvement and productive networks. The Muslim Arab world, which might
have been a natural ally, remains distant—due to historical, racial, and geopolitical factors.
The allegations of complicity in genocide against Christians may just be the beginning of greater challenges for the Muslim North. Its leadership and middle class must wake up and engage in soul-searching. They must research their problems, articulate them,
take responsibility, and share them with the world in search of realistic solutions. It is telling that individuals like Farooq Kperogi, Reno Omokri, Femi Fani-Kayode, and even Mathew Kukah, who occasionally speak more forcefully for the Muslim North than
many of its own intellectuals. Though like a double edged sword they could cut either way.
Miracles may happen, but God has said He helps those who help themselves. Beyond divine mercy (rahama), the Earth is not reserved for the uninspired or the self-righteous. Nigerian Muslims must emulate their counterparts in India, Pakistan, Turkey, Malaysia,
Indonesia, the UK, and the US—by cultivating the right attitude, justice, and accountability to reclaim their dignity and future - and that of the nation too.
A tough call, one may say, given how entrenched the Muslim North has become in its chosen path of under developing itself. The furore over Trump's genocide charges may come and go but it should mark the beginning of a more realistic introspection on the nation's
affairs as a whole.
A.G.Abubakar
agba...@gmail.com
